


Garcy Prompts

by kissedbydragonfire



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-08-04 06:21:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16341452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissedbydragonfire/pseuds/kissedbydragonfire
Summary: Garcy kiss and angst/fluff prompts from Tumblr.





	1. Kiss in the Dark After You Nearly Died

**Author's Note:**

> In response to kiss prompt #8 "kiss in the dark" and #10 "you nearly died kiss."
> 
> Send me an ask on Tumblr @kissedbydragonfire or message me here on AO3. I can't fit all the prompt lists in the notes, so feel free to visit my Tumblr for the massive 200 prompt list. Always happy to fill a prompt, but please specify the number an the list (there's way too many).
> 
> Prompt list is included in the end notes.

Pop.  Pop.  Those are the last sounds Lucy vividly remembers before she collapses into Flynn’s arms.  Wyatt fires back at Emma, as Flynn literally has his hands full at the moment.  Blood is covering his hands as Lucy gasps for air.  He tries desperately to apply pressure to the wound as his worst nightmare is playing out before his eyes.  Lucy clutches at him, panicking as she is unable to get any words out.  Flynn scoops her up into his arms and he and Wyatt exchange a look that tells both men they need to get Lucy back to the present immediately.  Rufus runs ahead, channeling his inner Usain Bolt, and arrives at the Lifeboat first.  He powers up and is ready to go as soon as they arrive.  Rufus hears Wyatt climb in first and then Flynn hands Lucy off to him before climbing in himself. 

When the Lifeboat arrives back at the bunker and Rufus opens the hatch, they all scream for help.  Thankfully, they have modern medical equipment in the bunker (well, modern is stretching it, but it’s more modern than where they had just been at least).  Flynn applies the combat gauze and is able to reasonably control Lucy’s bleeding.  By some miracle, Agent Christopher has been able to find a surgeon on an emergent basis.  Both Flynn and Wyatt refuse to leave Lucy’s side and Agent Christopher has to remove them by force. 

It feels like days that they’ve been pacing the bunker.  Flynn can’t take the wait any longer.  He’s about to barge into the room, when the doctor and Agent Christopher step out.  He glances up at Denise with expectant eyes and can see from the look she gives him back that Lucy is okay.  He doesn’t bother asking if he can see her.  Let any of them try to stop him.  He strolls right into the medical bay.  The overhead lights are out and he can only see Lucy by the glow of the myriad of machines in the room.  He breathes a sigh of slight relief when he sees her with his own eyes.  Assuming she is down for the count currently, he leans over and kisses her lips softly.  As he pulls back, he hears her stir in the bed below.

“Flynn?”

“Shh.  It’s me, Lucy.  I’m right here,” he answers as he takes her hand in his.

He can barely see her the room is so dark, but he _knows_ she’s looking right at him.

“What was that for?” Lucy asks in a raspy voice.

He wasn’t expecting her to be awake, let alone ask him why he was just kissing her.  _She doesn’t know?  How can she not know?_

“Lucy, you nearly died!” he exclaims a little too vehemently for his own taste.

“So, I have to be dying for you to want to kiss me?” she teases.

He chuckles and relief washes over him like a wave at high tide.  She’s joking with him, so she must be feeling somewhat better. 

“I guess I was figuring you wouldn’t be able to slap me for doing it if you were dying,” he jokes.

Lucy attempts to pull her hand back from underneath his, but he grabs it, brings it to his lips and plants a soft, lingering kiss on her knuckles. 

“I never need a reason to want to kiss you, Lucy,” he whispers.

“No?  Prove it,” Lucy responds, goading him on. 

He bends down towards her and presses another light kiss to her lips. 

“Lucy, I promise I will prove it to you every single day, if you let me,” he says with a serious tone.

“Oh, I am so holding you to that,” she replies with a smile. 


	2. Watching and Waiting to Kiss You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In response to Tumbler anon who requested #15 from the Garcy kiss list.
> 
> #15- A kiss because I have literally been watching you all night and I can’t take anymore.

**_February 12, 1766, London, England_ **

Flynn was not happy with this plan, _at all_.  It would leave Lucy too vulnerable and that was just not acceptable to him.  Their relationship was new and fragile and for some reason he was feeling more overprotective than usual.  But Rittenhouse needs to be stopped and he doubts that he can catch the amorous eye of Benjamin Franklin.  Only Lucy can do that.  He and Wyatt would be on sleeper patrol and Rufus would be relegated to playing the role of Flynn’s valet.  Not much access for a black man in 1766, except for Rufus’ claimed power of invisibility.  Flynn couldn’t exactly pull off posing as an Englishman, so he was going to pretend he was a foreign count.  He knew enough languages to feign an identity and Rufus’ appearance would be questioned less as well. 

Franklin had been caught by surprise by America’s overwhelming opposition to the Stamp Act.  He was set to testify the following morning before Parliament.  Lucy was quick to remind everyone that Franklin’s eventual testimony against the act would help persuade the repeal of the law and would spark his quest for American independence.  If Rittenhouse could prevent his testimony, the consequences could be disastrous.

Arriving at the soiree, Wyatt enters first and Lucy follows.  Naturally, Flynn enters with swag and fanfare, calling as much attention to himself and Rufus as possible.  Rufus almost blows their cover completely and begins to laugh when he overhears Flynn introduce himself as the Count of Monte Cristo.  Flynn ignores him entirely, playing up his newfound nobility.  Wyatt occasionally gives Flynn the stink eye as he mingles about the room.  And Lucy, Lucy is causing quite the scene by being, well quite frankly, just Lucy.  She naturally draws you in and leaves you wanting more.  At least in Flynn’s case she did. 

She has already caught the wandering eyes of half the men in the room, including the womanizing Franklin, and he is having trouble watching this spectacle.  _How the hell is he going to survive this?_   She’s distracting to say the least and he needs to keep an eye out for the sleeper, but his body is not cooperating at the moment.  He always thinks she looks beautiful, but there is something about how she looks tonight that is driving him wild.  He wants to just stroll through the throng of people, take her by the hand and kiss her until they’re both breathless.  He knows he can’t do that, knows they have a mission to fulfill, and has to use every ounce of willpower to stand firm. 

Benjamin Franklin is fawning over her now, and it strikes him that this display is both sickening and sickeningly jealous at the same time.  This sleeper agent better appear soon, as he’s not sure how much more he can handle. 

The night drags on and finally Wyatt reappears at his side and indicates the sleeper agent is dead.  _Finally,_ _they can get the hell out of here and he can end this torture he’s been enduring all night long_.  The room is more crowded at the moment, but thankfully Flynn is tall enough to see over most of the people and locate Lucy.  He tells Wyatt and Rufus that he will go get her and they will meet them back at the Lifeboat. 

As he makes his way towards Lucy, the partygoers seem to move out of his way with the ease and grace of a daydream.  His eyes never leave her as he finds himself closing in like a hungry wolf stalking its prey.  Once he reaches her, he takes her arm and leads her out into the hallway, down the corridor and into a secluded back room.  Lucy doesn’t even get a word out before he pulls her flush up against him and crashes his mouth into hers with a raging passion that he has been unable to quench.  She matches his intensity back and they are almost consuming the other with their heat and desire. 

“What was that for?” Lucy asks when they finally take a pause to breathe.

“Because I’ve literally been watching you all night and I can’t take it anymore,” he declared still gasping for air.

“Well, then…” Lucy states as she slinks her hands up his chest.

He looks back with anticipation and she grabs him by the shirt and pulls him back down for another kiss.  Soft, slow and lingering this time. 

“Let’s get out of here.  We can continue this once we get back to our room,” Lucy teases.

His blushing smile in response was as telling as anything.  He was immediately counting the minutes until they could be alone again.


	3. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #16 Teasing kisses on every bit of visible skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't exactly a prompt from someone, but I was inspired!  
> If anyone wants me to do a kiss prompt that's not on the list, let me know by sending a message on AO3 or on Tumblr.

Lucy shuffles her feet as she makes her way to the kitchen.  The only thought her brain can process at the moment is coffee.  She pours herself a hot, heaping mugful and turns to sit down at the table.  Before she can even get there, her eyes spy something hanging from the ceiling in the common area.  The culprit: mistletoe.  Eyeing the weed suspiciously, she sips her coffee slowly.  She needs to make a mental note of where that stupid plant is.  Getting caught under it is something she must avoid at all cost. 

Suddenly, the alarm sounds and Lucy springs to her feet.  The remainder of the team files into the common area within a few minutes.  They pile into the Lifeboat and jump.  The mission was long and hard-fought, but the team manages to thwart Rittenhouse again. 

When the team returns to the bunker, Lucy wants nothing more than a shower.  Her muscles ache and she feels grimy.  She showers first, using up a considerable amount of the available hot water and once she finishes, she meanders her way back to the kitchen for a glass of water.  She has completely forgotten the mistletoe at this juncture, that is, until, she hears footsteps approaching.  Panicking as her brain recalls the plant in the ceiling, she spins to find Rufus. 

“Oh, hey Lucy,” Rufus states with a smile.

“Looks like great minds think alike,” Lucy responds as she holds up her glass of water.

“Normally, I would completely agree with you, but since this is for Jiya…”

“Hey! I heard that!” Jiya yells from down the corridor.

“Someone’s in trouble,” Lucy teases as she shakes her head.

“When am I not?” Rufus jokes.

“Just make up for it with a couple mistletoe kisses.  She can’t say no, right?” Lucy suggests.

“Mistletoe?” Rufus questions as he raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, the mistle…”

Lucy was pointing to a spot in the ceiling where the mistletoe _had been_ this morning. 

“Wait, where did it go?” Lucy asks.

“Lucy, you alright?  I think you might need to go to bed if you’re starting to see things,” he answers with concern.

“Rufus, before our jump this morning, there was _definitely_ mistletoe hanging right there!  I’m not seeing things.  I thought you or Jiya did it,” she explains.

“Us?  Nope.  Not it,” he jests as he leaves the kitchen with Jiya’s glass of water in his hands.

_What is going on?  Did she hallucinate it?_  

Her thoughts are distracting, as she strolls back to the bathroom to grab her hair tie.  She is about to reach for the door handle, when she sees it.  Mistletoe.  She stops dead in her tracks, abruptly ducking to the left to avoid being caught under it.  _Th_ _at was close_.  _Maybe Denise put it up and then changed her mind._   _But the bathroom?_   _This better not be one of Wyatt’s stupid pranks._   She grabs her hair tie and deftly bows out of the bathroom, again avoiding the noxious weed hanging from the rafters.  Making a mental note in her head to avoid it again in the morning, Lucy saunters back to the couch in the common area. 

She wakes the next morning, still on the couch, book in her lap.  Lucy lightly stretches and then makes her way to the bathroom.  Barely awake at this point, she is about to do her dance to avoid the mistletoe when her eyes widen.  It’s gone.  She looks around frantically, but there is no trace of it.  _It better not be in this bathroom_.  She enters the bathroom, ready to maneuver around any obstacle, to find the bathroom mistletoe free. 

She finishes brushing her hair and teeth, but cannot get the stupid mistletoe out of her head.  Afraid she really is starting to lose it, she stops at the door of the one person who can always make her feel better: Flynn. 

She knocks once and doesn’t bother to wait for his response before she’s pulling on the door handle.

“Just a second,” Flynn says with a slight panic to his voice.

Unable to hear what he said over the creakiness of the door, Lucy flings it open and walks in.

Flynn’s eyes are wide and he looks nervous as he stares down at her.

“Everything okay, Lucy?” he asks trying badly to keep his voice level.

“Something weird is going on around here,” Lucy states as she tries to grapple how she’s going to explain this to him without sounding crazy.

“What do you mean?” Flynn asks.

“I keep seeing mistletoe around the bunker and then later on it disappears,” Lucy whispers.

“Really?” he whispers back as he closes the space between them.

“Flynn, I’m serious!  It’s either someone keeps moving it or I have utterly lost it,” she answers.

“I’ve seen it,” he replies nonchalantly.

“You did?” Lucy questions with desperation.

“Of course.  You’re standing under it now,” he laughs.

Lucy can feel her stomach drop.  Slowly, she lifts her head up to see the mistletoe directly above her. 

“So, are you going to participate in this historic Christmas tradition or what?” Flynn teases.

_You have got to be kidding me._   

“You-what?” Lucy stammers.

Flynn leans down towards her, and to her surprise she is rising on her tiptoes as well.  Their lips meet in a soft, sweet, almost chaste, kiss.  He puts his hands on her waist and pulls her in closer.  Lucy is caught off guard, but doesn’t move.  His lips are almost on hers again, when he slowly lifts his head slightly and plants a kiss on her nose.  He then moves to her right cheek and kisses it softly.  Lucy is melting right now.  His lips are as light as a feather on her skin and she just wants to kiss him back properly.  Flynn, has other ideas.  He continues to kiss down the right side of her neck and makes his way over to the left side.   Maintaining his ministrations up the left side of her neck and then her cheek, Lucy lets out a sensual sigh.  He works his way up her cheek and plants a lingering kiss to her forehead, before pulling away.  His teasing kisses to every visible piece of her skin has Lucy wanting _more_.  She grips the lapels of his shirt and tugs him towards her.  He stops her just short of their lips touching.

“Lucy,” he murmurs.

“Yes?” she asks breathlessly.

“Do you know how hard you’ve made this for the last two days?” Flynn questions.

“What?” Lucy responds.

Her brain is unable to focus on anything but his lips currently, and she looks at him in utter confusion.

“The mistletoe?” Flynn laughs.

Recovering from its momentary short-circuit, it _finally_ clicks in Lucy’s brain. 

“Maybe if you would’ve just put it in your room in the first place, it might not have been so difficult,” Lucy suggests.

“Maybe,” he whispers back as he pulls her close again.

“Or you could’ve just kissed me,” Lucy says matter-of-factly.

“Now that I have your permission…”

His lips crash into hers and they kiss deeply and passionately as Lucy wraps her arms around his neck.

“Maybe we should keep the mistletoe up all year round,” Lucy giggles as she breaks their kiss momentarily.

“Whatever you want,” he answers as he kisses her again.

_Yeah, she’s definitely keeping that stupid plant up all year long._

 


	4. You Need Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst/Fluff prompt #72 from Tumblr. "You Need Sleep"

It’s been two days since she almost lost him.  Two days of torturous hell.  Two days to hover next to his bedside and pray he wakes up from his latest bout against a bullet.  Two days to confront her thoughts and feelings for Garcia Flynn.  She loves him.  She loves him and he has no idea how she feels.  None at all.  Lucy refuses to let another moment go by without telling him, without kissing him.  If he dies, she will march down to hell herself and drag him back.  Not that she thinks he belongs there.  In fact, she _knows_ he doesn’t. 

So, she sits next to his bed and grips his hand tightly.  She may cause him to bruise from the force of her hold, but she knows neither of them will care.  She tries to will him back from the brink, back to her.  She reads to him, talks to him and occasionally brushes the wisps of hair that fall over his forehead.  Nothing.  The machines click and beep, and her hope slowly turns to despair as the hours toll on with no change in his condition. 

She refuses to leave him, eat or rest, despite the begging of the nursing staff and the rest of her bunker family.  She knows the longer he is unresponsive, the worse his prognosis will be, so she moves on to more aggressive tactics.  She shakes him, shouts at him and pokes him.  Nothing.  She cries, begs and pleads him not to leave her.  Nothing. 

She is delirious, but does not dare fall asleep for fear he will wake at that moment.  _What if he only wakes for a short while and then…_   She will _not_ miss another opportunity; not when it might be her last.  Every passing second feels like an eternity, as her heart pounds in her chest. 

Then it happens.  She’s not sure if she’s seeing things or not, but it looks like his eyelids are fluttering.  He opens his eyes slowly, unsure of his surroundings and undoubtedly in a state of confusion and discomfort.  He immediately gags on the endotracheal tube inserted in his throat and panics.  Lucy grabs his hand and he calms immediately upon visualizing her.  Tears of joy stream down her face like the first rain of spring.  He squeezes her hand back, as she once again tightens her grip.  Nurses and doctors come rushing in, and Lucy promptly informs them that if they don’t extubate him instantly, he’s going to rip the tube out of his throat himself.  Unable to speak, he winks back at her in agreement.  The doctors reluctantly agree, but only if Lucy exits the room and allows them to examine him first. 

She paces the hallway with the tenacity of a caged beast, until she is _finally_ allowed to reenter the room. 

“Lu-”

He is only able to get out the first syllable of her name before her lips are on his.  She’s gentle, careful not to hurt him, but her kiss is not one of friendship.  His eyes widen in shock.  He tries to wrap his arms around her, and grumbles when the blood pressure cuff and IV restrict him from doing so.  She pulls back and gently places her hands on his cheeks, as she gazes into his weary, emerald eyes. 

“No offense, Lucy.  But you’ve looked better.”

She is aghast at his statement.  Her mouth opens wide, yet no words find their way out. 

“You need sleep,” he adds with a sly smile.

She drops her hands from his face and is about to read him the riot act, when she hears him chuckle.  She knows exactly what he is doing (deflecting with humor) and she is _not_ giving in this time.  No, this time, Lucy Preston is sticking to her guns.

“I’ll sleep later.  Right now-”

“Right now, what?”

She took his hand in hers and kissed it lightly.

“Right now, I am telling the man that I love that he better never, _ever_ do that to me again.  I can’t lose you Flynn,” she cries.

“I love you, Lucy.”

“I love you too, even if you seem to be a bullet magnet.”

Now, it was her time to chuckle.  She scoots next to him in his bed, kisses him again and curls up against him, her head and hand on his chest.  Within a few seconds time, Flynn looks down at her again and she is already fast asleep.


	5. Please Don't Walk Out That Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst/fluff prompt #3 from Tumblr. "Please Don't Walk Out That Door."

_Why are you here?_   Lucy’s words echo in his head.  He thought she already knew.  _Surely, she had to know?_   He didn’t answer her, and knowing Lucy the way he did, he knew that she would bring it up again.  Today was that day. 

He was in his room reading when she came to him, late at night, just like she had for a while now.  Except this time, she flat out asks him.  He can’t answer her, not now, not after the journal had made it clear she would never love him.  He didn’t want to be anyone’s second choice either. 

Having not received any answer to her question, she asks again.  He has never been able to lie to her, and he does not want to, yet he sees that nothing good can come from him telling the truth either. 

“To destroy Rittenhouse.  _And_ , to protect you, Lucy.”

_Okay, so that’s at least half true._   She’s staring at him, examining and studying his face.  She could always see through his disguise. 

“Why do I only believe half of that?”

He shrugs his shoulders and reaches to pick up his book again. 

“That might have been the original reason, but I don’t believe it applies anymore.  Tell me the reason, Flynn, please?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Lucy,” he mutters as he shakes his head, stands up and strides passed her towards the door.

“Flynn?”

He stops dead in his tracks, closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and turns to face her. 

“Please don’t walk out that door.” 

The look she gives him is one of pure desperation.  He has seen that look before, but it had never been directed at him. 

“Talk to me.  I need to know why it doesn’t matter anymore.”

She is almost pleading with him now and it’s breaking his heart into a thousand pieces. 

“According to the journal, it doesn’t end well.  Your heart belongs to someone else and I don’t want to stand in your way.”

“You’re right.  My heart does belong to someone else.”

To hear her say it, crushes him. 

“My heart belongs to the _real_ Garcia Flynn.  Do you know where I can find him?”

His head whips up faster than a speeding train.  _Maybe this is all a dream.  Maybe he’s already in heaven._   _This cannot be real.  He doesn’t deserve her, he never has._

“What about Wyatt?”

Lucy inches even closer to him, slides her hands up his chest and grips his lapels.  She slowly pulls him towards her, as she whispers “I don’t give a damn about Wyatt.” 

Her lips are on his now and it feels magical.  Unable to stop himself, he kisses her back with the pent up passion of what feels like a lifetime.  She wraps her arms around his neck as she deepens their kiss.  He pulls back in fear, studying her face for a sign of doubt.

“But the journal-”

“You, of all people, should know the journal has been wrong before.  I’m telling you that _now_ is one of those times,” Lucy answers as she pulls him in for another kiss.

His walls are falling down and he cannot help himself.  His hands grip her waist, as his kisses trail down her neck. 

“I love you, Lucy.”

The words tumble out of him uncontrollably. 

“I love you too.”

He gazes into her eyes.  There is no doubt, no lie; only passion and fire. 

“Are you sure?”

“You _really_ are a fool, you know that, right?”

“Only for you, Lucy.  Only for you.”

 


	6. Handfasting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From an anonymous Tumblr prompt requesting Lucy x Flynn druid handfasting ceremony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved this prompt and had a blast writing it!

They had never been a typical couple.  It should have come as no surprise to anyone that they would apply that same unconventionality to their nuptials.  Still, they kept some aspects of a traditional wedding.  Lucy still wore a white dress and he donned a tux, mostly because Lucy loved how he looked in one.

The entire bunker family had decided to attend (some of which did so begrudgingly).  They gathered in a circle in the shadow of the grotto at twilight.  Jiya and Denise sprinkled flower petals within the circle, as the druid priestess followed, the sweet scent of sage emanating steadily from her hand.  The priestess stopped in the circle’s center and waited until Jiya and Denise had retaken their places.

“Merry meet!” the priestess exclaimed.

Flynn entered the circle thereafter and then turned and waited for Lucy.  He had never seen a more beautiful bride.  His breath stilled when he first saw her, and he had to remind himself to breathe.  Her dress was of a Grecian column style, with delicate lace cap sleeves, a glittering waist belt and drapes and folds that flattered her every curve.  Her hair was in an elegant up-do, complimented by a lace veil and tear-drop shaped pearl earrings.  She wore barefoot sandals made of pearls that crept up and wrapped around her ankle.  She was his goddess, his very own timeless being, about to be eternally bound to _him_.  

Her bouquet was large and cascaded down to her knees.  It consisted of thirteen different flowers, each symbolic in its own way.  There were Bells of Ireland and a sprig of shamrock for good luck; daisy for the innocence and beauty of the bride; lavender for devotion; peony to honor one another; ivy for fidelity; laurel for success; lily of the valley for sweetness of love; rose for passion and joy; lily for passion and purity in love; gardenia for secret love; forget-me-not for true love; and primrose for eternal love in the marriage.  Lucy handed the bouquet over to Jiya and turned to face Flynn.

Flynn lifted the veil and gently folded it back over her hair.   The priestess instructed the couple to take each other’s hands, as she held a golden goblet above their intertwined digits.  She blessed the wine and Flynn and Lucy each took a sip.

“Blessed be,” the priestess declared as she set the goblet back down.

The priestess then removed a burgundy braided cord and slowly wrapped it around their interlaced hands.  She summoned Rufus forward into the circle, and he leisurely strolled in, as he balanced the satin pillow in his hands.  The priestess plucked the matching platinum bands from the pillow, blessed them and then placed one back on the pillow, as she handed the other to Flynn. 

Lucy held out her left hand, her right still bound by the burgundy braid.  Flynn gingerly slipped the ring onto her finger, as he gazed softly into her sepia eyes. 

“I, Garcia Flynn, promise to love, honor and worship the very, _very_ impressive Lucy Preston until the end of time itself.  To be my wife, my partner, my light in the never-ending darkness.”

Lucy took the ring from the priestess’ hand and slid in onto his.

“I, Lucy Preston, promise to faithfully love the complicated and amazing man named Garcia Flynn that stands before me, with every inch of my heart and soul, now and forever more.  To be my husband, my partner, my rock.”

The priestess instructed the wedding guests to ignite the white candles they had been provided.  The candlelight danced along the rays of the moon, as the priestess clasped their bound hands.

“So mote it be.”

“May it be,” the guests stated in unison.

Lucy and Flynn peered into each other’s eyes, as they both declared, “For as long as our love shall last.”

“You may kiss your bride,” the priestess stated with a smile.

Flynn leaned down and slowly moved towards Lucy’s luscious lips.  He paused momentarily, as he studied her face, then crashed into her with the flames of fifty fiery suns.  She responded in kind with a fervor of her own, the torsion of her tongue threading perfectly with his.  They parted a few moments later to elated cheers from their guests.  The priestess then unwound the burgundy braid from their hands. 

Connor entered the circle, with the final ritual the couple had requested.  He placed a besom (broom) on the ground.  The besom was decorated with the same flowers that made up Lucy’s bouquet.  It symbolized the threshold of a new life, the sweeping away the dirt of the past.  Flynn took Lucy’s hand in his, as they jumped over the besom.  The guests cheered again and he pulled her into another embrace, kissing her softly and slowly this time, as he whispered into her ear, “I love you, Mrs. Flynn.”

Lucy stood on her tiptoes and whispered back into his ear, “I love you too, Mr. Preston.”

 


	7. First Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Tumblr prompt by @misscrazyfangirl321 from the Kisses and Sweet Moments Prompt List  
> #8 "First Kiss"
> 
> See the notes at the end for the prompt list (which I forgot to put up when I originally posted this).

She poses as Flynn’s wife more times than she can count, but there have been no kisses between them, not even a chaste one on the cheek or forehead.  She wants to kiss him though, and dreams of it more than she wants to admit.  Where is New Year’s Eve when you need it?  _Oh, right.  That was over a month ago, or so she thinks.  Time travel._

She thinks about making the first move a few times, only to chicken out.  The doubts swirl in her mind, and she manages to convince herself he would never reciprocate her feelings.  Still, she wants to know what his lips would feel like.  _Maybe, just maybe, she can sneak one in on Valentine’s Day_. 

Since Rittenhouse ruins everything for her, of course the Mothership jumps that day.  As they enter the Lifeboat, Flynn makes a quip about Emma standing up her date with the devil just to torture them.  _A match made in perfect hell._  

The mission is long and tiresome, and Lucy forgets about it being Valentine’s Day when they return to the bunker.  She showers and goes about her normal evening routine, which includes hanging out on that awful couch (at least until everyone else goes to bed). 

Once everyone does wander off to their own rooms, she grabs her vodka bottle and makes her way to Flynn’s room. 

Tapping lightly on the door, it doesn’t take him long to answer.  He smiles back at her, the corner of his mouth in a half-smirk. 

She takes a seat on his bed and he sits in his chair.  Business as usual.  They chat, laugh and drink for a short while, before she stretches her arms out and winces. 

“What’s wrong, Lucy?”

“Just sore and tired.”

To her shock, he gets up from his chair and sits next to her on the bed.  He places his hands gently on her shoulders and begins to massage her achy muscles. 

“That feels really, _really_ good.”

He continues his massage, moving down to her arms next.  She closes her eyes and relaxes into him.  Every bit of tension is escaping her body right now, and she is lost in the magic feeling of his hands. 

She is floating amongst the clouds in no time flat, and she leans back and rests against him.  She hears his breathing become erratic, as their cheeks are almost flush. 

“Better now?” he asks, as he places a kiss to the crown of her head.

“Much,” she muses dreamily.

Her eyes are still shut and she sighs contently, as she pulls his arms around her.  He tightens his grip, then slides his one hand up her arm to her chin.  He tilts it upward and kisses her forehead with a feathery touch.  His lips linger slightly before he pulls away. 

She makes another audible sigh, and turns her body towards his.  All she feels is comfort and warmth, and she wants to stay here forever.  His hand strokes her hair absentmindedly, and her hands press against his chest.  It is in that exact moment that she can actually feel his heart racing beneath her palm. 

Opening her eyes, she gazes up at him.  He smiles down at her like her she is a butterfly emerging from its cocoon.  His hand cups her face, as his thumb grazes over her lips.  She feels as if she’s in a trance, because the next thing she knows, his lips are on hers. 

It takes her brain a second or two to register what is going on.  _He’s kissing her!  Garcia Flynn is kissing her!_   She finds it both impressive and annoying that _he_ made the first move.  _She always thought she would have to do it_. 

His lips are surprisingly soft and supple.  The kiss deepens and lingers, until they are both breathless. 

Staring back at him in shock once they part, he appears nervous to her.  The initial shock wears off of her face, and she curls her mouth up into a radiant smile. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Lucy.”

She crashes her lips upon his one more time, and kisses him deeply.  She pulls back, her hands clinging to his cheeks, as she whispers, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Garcia.”

She could literally kick herself for not kissing him sooner, because she has never been kissed that way in her entire life.  Now that their first kiss is out of the way, she cannot wait for their second…and third…and fourth.

 


	8. Tending An Injury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Tumblr prompt by anon from the Kisses and Sweet Moments Prompt List  
> #26 "Tending an Injury"

Flynn paces along the trees where they hid the Lifeboat.  Rufus is already inside performing the prep work for the jump back.  Lucy and Wyatt should have been back a while ago.  He knew he should have went with her.  If anything happens to Lucy, he will certainly murder Wyatt with his bare hands. 

Finally, he spots them off in the distance.  Huddling close together as they walk, he cannot tell if Lucy is helping Wyatt or vice versa.  _That idiot better pray Lucy’s helping him_. 

As they get closer to the Lifeboat, he can clearly see that is not the case.  Lucy is hurt. 

“Lucy!”

“Flynn, help me get her in the Lifeboat,” Wyatt yells.

“What the hell happened?”

“It’s just a graze.  I’ll be fine,” Lucy replies, as Flynn and Wyatt pick her up and load her like cargo onto the Lifeboat.

He can see the blood, as it drips down her thigh.  Wyatt did his best tying a piece of cloth to stop the bleeding, but the walk back to the Lifeboat had to aggravate it.  Apparently, they ran into a Rittenhouse sleeper, and Wyatt was able to pull Lucy out of the bullet’s path just in the nick of time.  Grazing the side of her left thigh, she wasn’t in immediate danger, but it wasn’t an ideal situation either.  She was losing a lot of blood.

He paces in front of the make-shift infirmary in the bunker now.  He will gladly donate whatever blood or organs she needs.  She already has possession of his heart, what’s one more thing? 

The door opens and he practically bowls Denise over to get inside. 

“Lucy!”

“I’m fine.  Just a couple stitches and a bandage, Flynn.”

She tries to get down from the table and he pulls her into his arms. 

“Flynn, I _can_ walk.”

“You need to keep weight off of that leg.”

He carries her to his room, and gently lays her on the bed.  He gathers every spare pillow and blanket he can find, and makes a cozy nest for her to rest in.  It was terrifying seeing her hurt today. 

She keeps insisting she is okay, but he is hovering over her anyway.  He cannot lose her.   He will not lose her.  He loves her too much. 

He disappears to the kitchen for a moment, and returns with a beer and a couple chocolate chip cookies from his stash.  She giggles with delight when he hands her the cookies.  _The pain pills must be kicking in._

He props pillows to elevate her leg, and snuggles her in his arms.  He is silent while she finishes her cookies and drinks some of her beer.  He just holds her tightly. 

Unable to bear it any longer, he rests his head in the crook of her neck.

“I was terrified today.  It felt like we were right back in Salem all over again.  I can’t lose you, Lucy,” he states, as he places a soft kiss to her neck. 

“You’re not going to lose me.  I’m okay.  Wyatt was protecting me.”

“I’m not leaving your side on missions from now on.  Wyatt nearly got you killed.”

She sighs audibly, turns around and pulls him down to her.  Her lips brush against his, and then she kisses him softly but deeply. 

“I will never complain about you being by my side.”

“Good, because there’s no way you’re getting rid of me,” he chuckles, as he trails kisses down her neck.

“Why would I ever want to?  I love you, Garcia” she whispers in his ear.

The words are sweeter to his ears than the nectar of the gods.  He never tires of hearing them.

“I love you too, Lucy.  Always.”

 


	9. A Kiss That Shouldn't Have Happened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For arabellavidal's prompt request for #12 "A Kiss That Shouldn't Have Happened"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this is the correct #12 arabellavidal!

They’re both drunk.  Well, he’s more buzzed than anything, but Lucy is definitely drunk.  It’s becoming more than a pattern for her lately and he worries.  He knows she has been grieving over her mother and Rufus, (until they saved him that is), but he worries nevertheless. 

He’s never been much of a drinker himself, but it’s what Lucy wants, and he’ll do just about anything to spend time with her.  Normally, they have a few drinks and laughs and enjoy each other’s company.  Tonight, however, she’s really, _really_ off.  He has no idea what’s gotten into her.  He can’t even explain it, but it’s like she’s a totally different person, or it’s a _very_ different side of her that he has never had the privilege of knowing before. 

She is sitting on his bed, tapping the space next to her, summoning him.  He can’t deny her, he never can.

He rises from the chair and sits next to her on the bed, careful to leave extra space between them.  Lucy gazes back at him with her brow raised, like she’s just seen a pink elephant or something.  It’s one of the few times he cannot read her. 

She slides over, erasing the space between them in an instant.  He eyes her suspiciously, not quite sure what is going on here.  She’s not talking to him, but she’s not mad.  The silence is comfortable, like it always is with them. 

He smells her strawberry scented shampoo, as she leans her head on his shoulder.  He loves when she initiates contact like this, he just wished it wasn’t always when she’s been drinking.

He’s about to ask her if everything is alright, when she lifts her head up from his shoulder.  He sits there like a marble statute, unmoving, paralyzed. 

She curls into him even more, her head now in the crook of his neck.  He feels her breath on his skin, and a shudder runs down his entire body.  Goosebumps follow immediately thereafter, and the extra alcohol in him is limiting his ability to maintain control. 

He’s still frozen in place, afraid to gaze down and meet her eyes, when she leans up and whispers into his ear, “Mmm, have I ever told you how good you smell?”

He snaps his head and peers down at her, despite his resolve to avoid eye contact.  She’s batting her eyelashes at him, and it’s doing dangerous things to his heart (and to other parts of his body if he’s being honest).  His normal inhibiting self is fighting hard to maintain control, but he’s losing the battle at a rapid pace. 

“Uh, no?” he laughs.

Of course he goes back to his default setting: humor.

She snuggles even closer, almost in his lap at this point, and the other body parts are now starting to catch up to his heart.  Usually, if she gets too close for comfort, he extricates himself from the situation as tactfully as possible.  Tonight though, he cannot will himself to do so.

“Well, you do.  You smell _really_ good.”

He doesn’t know what to say, so he says nothing.  _Is she flirting with him?_   The alcohol is sloshing around in his brain, slowing his reaction time, and his resolve is breaking down.  _He would never take advantage of her, especially in this state, right?_

He doesn’t have to wait long for that answer.  Her lips are inches away, his heart is bursting in his chest, and he snaps.  He presses his lips against hers, tentatively at first, until she starts kissing him back. 

He feels like he’s having an out of body experience, because this is not something he would ever do, yet, his tongue is engaging with hers and he is unable to stop. 

He’s melting under the touch of her soft lips, and now their hands are roving each other’s bodies.  He’s riding a euphoric wave of pleasure, when his brain kicks back into gear. 

He pulls back, leaving Lucy breathless.  The kiss was amazing, but it should have never happened.  He’s embarrassed and ashamed, and he will not blame her if she never speaks to him again. 

He closes his eyes, and wishes he can blink himself out of existence right now.  Lucy is going to hate him when she remembers this tomorrow.  He has no excuse for his boorish behavior.

Suddenly, the alarms sound and he flashes his eyes open.  It’s the middle of the night, and he’s alone in his bed.  He knows he wasn’t _that_ drunk last night, and concludes the entire thing must have been just a vivid dream; or a nightmare, depending on how Lucy responds to him today.

He gets up, throws on his clothes, and makes his way out to where the Lifeboat is docked.  Lucy greets him with a beaming smile, and he exhales the breath he was inadvertently holding in. 

The rest of the team piles into the Lifeboat, and Flynn extends his hand to help Lucy, as he always does.  She takes his hand and climbs in, and he buckles her into the seat.  He notices the beaming smile on her face and the wicked little glint in her eye, and panic is starting to well up inside him. 

After ensuring she’s good and buckled in, he moves to pull back, but Lucy grabs his hand.  She leans closer and whispers into his ear, “Flynn, have I ever told you that you smell _really_ good?”

_Maybe, just maybe, dreams really do come true._

 


	10. Hope We Don't Get Caught Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiss prompt #15: "Hope We Don't Get Caught Kiss"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Ramblingon.

They’ve been hiding it from the rest of the team for a while now. Well, at least they think they are. The team knows they’re close friends, and honestly, everyone else is so wrapped up in their own life, they’re not paying attention to Flynn and Lucy. It’s not embarrassing for them, but they just feel it’s better to keep it under wraps for now.

It’s easy to be together in Flynn’s room in the bunker. It’s when they’re on missions, that things get tough. Not that they’re making out on missions or anything. The most that’s really happened has been a quick hand hold or fleeting glance.

They work well together, and partner up on most missions. On this particular one, they’re separated from Wyatt and Rufus, and yell across the hail of gunfire that they’ll meet back at the Lifeboat.

Flynn and Lucy manage to make it back to the Lifeboat before the others. They have no idea how long they’ll be waiting. It could be five minutes or five hours.

After a few minutes, Flynn opens the door to the Lifeboat and climbs up. Lucy raises her brow in confusion. He exits a minute later, sans jacket.

“It’s too damn hot.”

The midday sun is scorching, and beads of sweat are pouring down the both of them. She wishes she could also remove a layer of clothing, but she doesn’t want to “scandalize” Rufus and Wyatt if they do show up.

“Believe it or not, it’s actually cooler inside,” Flynn informs her.

He reaches out with his hand to help her up and in. Of course she manages to trip her foot on the lip of the hatch door, and she goes flying into his arms.

“Well, hello there,” he says suggestively.

Lucy wraps her arms around his neck, then pulls back, remembering where they are.  She peers back out the hatch door, but they’re still alone. The tension is so palpable, a knife could cut through it. It’s been a long, hard, hot day of both chasing and running from Rittenhouse sleeper agents. Lucy wants nothing more than to collapse into his strong, muscular arms, but she also doesn’t want to get caught, knowing it will only serve to create more conflict among the team (okay, well predominantly Wyatt, but still).

She steadies herself and then takes a seat, Flynn examining her the entire time. Just as she’s starting to grapple with her raging hormones, Flynn undoes the top two buttons on his dress shirt, exposing his collarbone. Her eyes immediately flicker to his bare skin, and her breathing starts to get shallow again. He rolls up his sleeves to his elbows next, and Lucy is finding it increasingly difficult to remain so far away from him.  She wants his lips on hers-now.

He peers out the open hatch again, checking for the others. As he turns back, Lucy fists his dress shirt and pulls him closer to her. Her lips part, as she leans up towards him. Their lips are brushing each other’s, but haven’t quite met yet, when she whispers, “I hope we don’t get caught.”

They crash into each other like moths drawn to a flame. The kiss is searing and hot, as if they’re branding the other with desire. Flynn deepens the kiss, tongue twisting into hers, as she melts in his arms.

“Whoa!” a voice states from behind them.

They separate almost as fast as they came together, to find Rufus standing outside the Lifeboat gawking with his mouth agape. Lucy and Flynn adjust themselves quickly, but say nothing.

“Never mind, I don’t want to know,” Rufus states, as he shakes his head and climbs into the ship.

Lucy takes her seat, Flynn helping buckle her in, as Wyatt climbs in a few moments later. Rufus avoids looking at any of them, and initiates the start-up sequence. Wyatt gazes around the Lifeboat, slightly startled by the quiet. Flynn and Lucy exchange a knowing glance with each other, before Flynn turns to Wyatt, “What the hell took so long?”

“Sleeper agents. Sorry to have kept _you_ waiting,” Wyatt replies with a heap of sarcasm.

Flynn rolls his eyes, and Lucy shoots him a look that tells him to just let it go. Never being able to deny her anything, he acquiesces. Plus, it’ll literally be seconds until they’re back in the bunker again, and he can go back to kissing Lucy in the privacy of his own room, (which he looks forward to immensely).

 


	11. I Read Your Diary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from MissCrazyWriter321/@misscrazyfangirl321 on Tumblr for #157 (General prompts) "I Read Your Diary"

Lucy sneaks into Flynn’s room while he’s taking a shower. She’s pretty sure he won’t mind, since he never has before. This is their thing: they hang out together.

She waits for what feels like a seemingly long time, so she glances around the room to find something to occupy herself. Tucked on one of the bookshelves, she spies the familiar sight of a leather-bound journal.

She gets up from the bed, and crosses the room toward the bookshelf. _At least if she’s reading this when he comes into the room, it won’t look like she’s been prying through his personal things._

She pulls the journal down from the shelf, and saunters back across the room to the bed. She opens the journal to a random page, and begins to read the entry.

It should’ve occurred to her the moment she saw the handwriting, but for some reason it didn’t register right away. Perhaps it’s the topic of the entry that throws her off. The word “Salem” practically jumps off the page at her. But it’s not _her_ account of what happened that day, it’s _Flynn’s_. _Crap. This is his journal-diary-thing._ She should just put this back immediately and never speak of this _ever_ , but her eyes can’t stop scanning the page.

The beginning of the entry is mostly factual, with the exception of a side-note stating that if he and Rufus ever become friends, they really need to talk about his lack of game. Lucy chuckles, as she remembers him telling Rufus he’s got problems if Jiya is fantasizing about Puritans.

As she continues to read, the tone turns more personal, and Lucy feels a twinge of guilt that she’s continuing to pry into his innermost thoughts without his knowledge or permission. She scolds herself again, and is about to close the journal, when she spots her name towards the bottom of the entry. Curiosity wins out, and she continues reading the journal entry with a nervous anticipation.

_I was terrified, not just for Lucy, but for myself.  It had nothing to do with the fact that Agent Christopher would have thrown me back into the slammer the second I failed to protect her and Rufus, and everything to do with the fact that I am falling for Lucy. Maybe, I’ve already fallen. I know it’s ridiculous to have hope for something that will never happen, but it was nice to be there for her today. So, I will continue to be there for her, for as long as she needs or wants me to._

Lucy is in shock. She blinks multiple times and stares back at the page, double checking that she did indeed just read what she thought she had. Suddenly, she hears footsteps approaching the door, and she jumps up and practically flings the journal back onto the shelf. Flynn opens the door, and raises an eyebrow. He clearly had not expected Lucy to be waiting for him.

Lucy is never more thankful that Flynn is wearing clothes. If he had walked in here with only a towel on, she might have just lost all self-control. He’s still eyeing her suspiciously, and she’s trying her best to be nonchalant about it.

“Lucy?”

She can’t meet his eyes, her face will betray her in a heartbeat.

“Hmm?”

“Lucy.”

She’s still not looking at him, so he crosses the room, and crouches down next to the bed so she has to.

“What is it, Lucy? What’s wrong?”

“I-I did something.”

“Okay.”

“Something I’m-I’m not proud of.”

“Lucy, you know that whatever it is, I won’t judge you.”

“You may once you hear what it is,” she replies, as she dips her head down again.

He puts his fingers under her chin, and lifts her head back up to meet his eyes.

“I doubt it. Just tell me, Lucy,” he pleads.

She whispers so softly that only dogs can hear it. “I read you diary.”

“What?” he laughs.

“I read your diary,” she repeats. “I didn’t mean to. I thought it was my journal.”

“That’s all?”

“Isn’t that enough?”

He chuckles and takes her hands in his. “Lucy, there is nothing in there that you don’t already know. I don’t care that you read it. You know you can read anything I have in here.”

Her eyes grow wide, and she feigns a slight smile, still unable to believe him. “There was something…”

“Something you didn’t know already?”

She nods her head in response. She’s staring straight at him now, and she somehow finds the strength to spit out the words. “I didn’t know how you felt-feel about me.”

The soft expression on his face melts her completely, and he lets out a sigh.

“Lucy, I-I thought you knew. I didn’t know how you couldn’t by this point.”

She gazes back at him, and before she knows it, her lips are on his. He freezes for a moment, then deepens the kiss.

“You need to learn to say your words out loud and not just write them down on paper. I had no clue.”

“As if you have room to talk, Dr. Preston,” he chuckles, as he kisses her softly again.

_She doesn’t and she knows it._

“Fine. Let’s make up for our mutual lack of communication and agree to use our words more.”

“Deal.”

They don’t use many words for the rest of the night, though. They can start that tomorrow.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt list:  
> 1\. First kiss  
> 2\. Painful kiss  
> 3\. Sad kiss  
> 4\. Desperate kiss  
> 5\. Comfortable kiss  
> 6\. Tipsy kiss  
> 7\. Laughing kiss  
> 8\. In the dark kiss  
> 9\. “We might die tomorrow” kiss  
> 10\. “You nearly died” kiss  
> 11\. “We’re actually being kind of silly for one” kiss  
> 12\. A kiss that shouldn’t have happened  
> 13\. A kiss we had to wait for  
> 14\. “I don’t have the words right now so here’s a kiss”  
> 15\. A kiss because I have literally been watching you all night and I can’t take anymore  
> 16\. Teasing kisses on every bit of visible skin  
> 17\. Hungry kisses on every bit of newly visible skin as clothing is slowly peeled away  
> 18\. Kisses because I missed you and you really shouldn’t stay away so long  
> 19\. Kisses because I don’t want you to go and maybe I can convince you to stay just a few minutes longer  
> 20\. Kisses because everything hurts right now, including being loved by you, but you’re also the only thing that makes it  
> feel better
> 
> Sweet Affectionate Moments Prompt List
> 
> KISSES:  
> 1) Sweet kiss  
> 2) Hot kiss  
> 3) Tired kiss  
> 4) Drunken kiss  
> 5) Reunion kiss  
> 6) Relief kiss  
> 7) Scared kiss  
> 8) First kiss  
> 9) Awkward kiss  
> 10) Shy kiss  
> 11) Morning kiss  
> 12) Night kiss  
> 13) Sorry kiss  
> 14) Sad kiss  
> 15) Hope We Don't Get Caught kiss  
> 16) Naughty kiss
> 
> SWEET MOMENTS:  
> 17) Love Bite  
> 18) Holding Hands  
> 19) Cuddling  
> 20) Massage  
> 21) Promise  
> 22) Caught in a Storm  
> 23) Seeking Shelter  
> 24) Slow Dancing  
> 25) Exchanging Letters  
> 26) Tending an Injury  
> 27) Accidentally Sleeping In  
> 28) Teaching the other something new  
> 29) Cooking together  
> 30) Sharing a bath/swim  
> 31) Catching the other before they fall  
> 32) Getting caught in the act


End file.
